


Restricted Passion

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Community: sshg_smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: Irma Pince refuses to work alongside the Carrow siblings. Severus has to tailor make an advert to appeal to a certain Muggleborn. When the Dark Lord finds out, he agrees with his choice of Headmaster's decision, but makes sure Severus adds stipulations. What neither expect, however, is to fall in love.





	Restricted Passion

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompter:** Ragwort_Moth  
>  **Prompt:** Madame Pince retires, and Hermione applies for the librarian position. Headmaster Snape agrees to hire her...but only on a few conditions. (And I don’t care what those conditions are, as long as they are really smutty!)  
>  **Warnings/Content:** Implied!Rape; Attempted Rape, May/December relationship, Masturbation, Objectification, Sexual molestation.

 

**The Ultimatum**

“I mean it!” screeched the stick insect of a librarian. Wagging her finger in the air between her and the equally skinny man. “You tell those _beastly_ siblings to stay away from my library or...”

“Irma,” the man sighed, pinching the bridge of his overly large nose. “They will be teachers, also may I point out that it is Hogwarts Library, not yours.”

“Those books are precious sources of knowledge Severus,” she hissed. “I walked in on those two conducting what could only be described as an orgy ON TOP OF SOME OF THE MOST PRIZED TOMES this world has seen!”

Severus sighed. This was another headache he did not need. The Dark Lord had best be destroyed by Potter or he would for giving him a migraine for twenty years.

“There is no room for discussion, Irma,” Severus said firmly. Pressing his thin lips together so it looked like there was nothing between nose and chin. “The Carrow siblings are to be Muggle Studies and Defence Against The Dark Arts Professors, as such they are to be treated with the same respect you would treat Minerva or Aurora.”

“So far I have only known two students who treat books with respect in my thirty years of being here,” she said. “One of them was you and I will not say the name of the other one.”

The fact that Miss Granger was no longer allowed to be in the Wizarding World was a source of hurt for the bibliophile. Hermione Granger would have been her ideal daughter if she and Filch ever chose to have children. What she loved the most about the girl was her incredible guilt when she _had_ ripped a corner out of a book, she explained it was the only way she knew how she could save the school. Madam Pince was surprisingly forgiving due to the girls contrite honesty. Really, though, she had saved her lover's pet through that knowledge so she could not remain furious for long. The girl was given a detention tidying up after the students and no more was said about it.

“Well,” she drew in her body standing ramrod straight. Resembling something of a novelty poker. “Then, Headmaster, I tender my resignation forthwith!”

With that she spun on her prim little heel and stalked off to find Argus so that she could crumble into tears on his shoulder. He'd have to stay behind. Filch was the only friend Severus had.

**Discussing a Replacement**

After the door slammed shut Severus let out a string of invectives in several languages before slumping back down in the seat.

“You could have said something old goat!” Snape said to Dumbledore's portrait. “To use the vernacular we are in deep...”

“I heard everything,” Albus said. “I am sure Argus will convince her to stay.”

Severus shuddered at the thought of Pince and Filch – even though their affair was perhaps the best kept secret in Hogwarts – it still did not comfort those that knew. A 23-year-old Severus got the shock of his life when he went to Argus for a cup of tea and found Filch sucking on Pince's breasts. He could not look either in the eyes for months after that in case he saw the full show in their minds. His ability was a blessing and a curse.

“What if he does not?” Severus sighed. “There would be the problem of a certain megalomaniac, he'd use the opportunity to plant another of the flock in the school,” he grimaced. “I am not sure I could cope with thugs like Scabior and Greyback in the school. Imagine Scabior, he's a _menace_ amongst the girls,” and not in a nice way. Aloysius Scabior was one not to be around hormonal girls. He was one of the first Slytherins under his charge to teach from his first to seventh year. How the whelp became a prefect befuddled Severus' mind to this day.

“I agree with you there Severus,” Dumbledore sighed. Irma had thrown a rather large cube in a rather tight circle of an issue. “Let me sleep on this...”

“No...” too late, the not so dulcet tones of Albus snoring behind him reached his ears. “Bloody goat!” he muttered.

Severus sat back in the chair and rubbed his temples: “Well, that leaves out informing senior psychopath,” he mumbled as he looked up and around his office, lost as to how to fix this before his living Master found out. “I could bribe Lupin to work here. He's at least intelligent enough to be here, knows the school, some of the students trust him with their lives and who knows, perhaps he can keep me somewhat sane.” Gods how desperate was he when he was seeking friendship with, what was now truly, the last living Marauder. Pettigrew no longer counted since he took the Dark Mark. “There is also the added benefit I can sneak him his Wolfsbane and make sure that he and Tonks do not die like...”

“Severus,” a rather haughty voice cut in on the current Headmaster's musings. “Severus, look lively fellow!”

The Headmaster groaned. Great, advised by a Black, how wonderful was his life? He'd certainly swap with Jimmy Stewart any day of the week. Come to think of it, did his character not like a librarian? It had been awhile since he had watched the movie.

“What can I do for you, Headmaster Black?”

“Why do you not consider tailoring an advert in the Daily Prophet to gain a certain someone's attention?”

“Who would willingly want to work here under these circumstances?”

“Gryffindors would, more to the point, a _specific_ Gryffindor who would probably _live_ in a library if you let her...”

“Gods, Black, you are as insane as your great granddaughter,” growled Severus. “She is a Muggleborn. The moment the Carrow siblings gets wind of this...”

“No,” another voice interrupted. It was Dilys. A formidable Ex Hufflepuff. “I see where Phineas is going with this – she is remarkably intelligent, it was her that used the library to save her friend's life on more than one occasion. If anyone can help us win this fight by being librarian it would be her.”

Grudgingly Severus reconciled the salient, concise, calmly fact stated by the former Headmistress. So much so that Severus bounced back and forth in the Headmaster's chair, tapping the highest points of his fingers against his lips as he considered her suggestion. He was about to say he'd give it due consideration when an owl tapped against his window – Severus took it, it was an Inter-Owl. Only used between members of staff. He took the missive and the owl flew back to the owlery.

Phineas and Dilys swapped looks with each other: “Severus?” enquired a now wide awake Dumbledore. Bloody typical, Snape snorted.

_“Headmaster_

_I cannot, in good conscience, work with Death Eaters. Especially ones so debauched and disgusting as the Carrow siblings. I cannot stand to see such jewels of literature to be abused only as they know how._

_This is my resignation._

_Who knows, perhaps your Lord can place a vampire amongst them!_

_Irma!”_

“Well?” Phineas said.

“I agree to your suggestion. Now,” he sat down on the desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. “If you do not mind I have a former student to trap.”

**The Advertisement**

Harry and Hermione were the early birds in the Burrow. Pig had flown in with the Prophet. Seeing the little owl reminded Harry of his own personal loss in Hedwig. His faithful snowy owl. Harry's heart broke into a million tiny pieces at her death.

“I still can't believe that murdering bastard is Headmaster!” he grumbled.

Hermione chewed her toast thoughtfully. She had long learned to keep her suspicions to herself. There were too many variables in her Arithmantic equations. Not one of them worked out that Severus Snape was a villain. Some of them veered more to the dark grey but he was not wholly dark, just as twilight is not night but a vast array of differing shades each time. She took the rag from the owl and they shared it between them.

“Good on her!” Harry exclaimed.

“Who?”

“Clearly Madam Pince also decided Snape's a git!”

“Why?”

“There is an advertisement in the Daily Prophet for new school Librarian. Listen to this...” Harry coughed.

“Listen to what?” the wonderful sight of Ginny in a nightshirt that reached halfway down her thighs and mussed up bed hair did something to Harry's groin but he reined it in. “Harry?”

“Ah,” he blushed. Hermione smirked behind her large cup of coffee. “Um...” rolling her eyes, Hermione turned the paper towards her and looked Ginny in the eye.

“Wanted: A hard-working, intelligent, capable, trustworthy Mage for position in School Library. Must understand complicated codices, be of organised mind and habits. Able to help pupils with assignments if need be. Also may need to substitute for teaching if required. Rooms provided. Familiars allowed. Food provided. Must have own Gringotts account. Must be 18 AT LEAST when term starts. Other qualities include: Past Prefect. Of exemplary OWL scores at least. Basic understanding of ALL Primary subjects taught at Hogwarts. Past Alumni.”

Ginny's eyes widened: “Wow, if I don't know any better I'd say he was describing you, Hermione.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione frowned.

“Item One: Hard-working, no-one works as hard as you. Item Two: Intelligent, no one can doubt that. Three: Honestly, point out any one else more capable and I would have to say you are one of those simburg things...”

“Cyborg,” Hermione corrected automatically as if to prove Ginny's point.

“Trustworthy, tick,” Harry continued, seeing where his girlfriend was going with this. “Understanding of complex filing systems. Hell, I think you could turn that Library right on its head and people would wonder why it was not run like that before. Able to help students with assignments... you were helping OWL students when you were a first year,” Harry absently began to draw Ginny in for a hug. She was nothing but smug in her boyfriend’s embrace. “You will be missing the deadline of your birthday two weeks ahead but hey, you were always early... OUCH!” Hermione had kicked Harry's shin under the table. “You got top OWLS, you are a past Prefect, and you have more than a basic understanding in all first and second year subjects and so could definitely substitute for a teacher from time-to-time.”

Hermione chewed her lower lip. Why did her dream job have to show up when it was war time. Ginny sighed as she realised she was supposed to remain romantically distant from her boyfriend until the war was over.

“I'd love it if you were there,” Ginny sighed as she left Harry's warm embrace. “I'm off to get dressed. Quidditch practise, yeah?”

Harry smiled at the Goddess that was Ginevra Weasley: Once she had disappeared Harry turned back to Hermione: “Also, where better to research possible Horcruxes and right under the Bat's nose!”

“How would I get information to you?”

Harry stood up, leant over, and kissed Hermione on the forehead: “You are _intelligent **and** capable_ remember, I am sure you can come up with something. Oh,” he turned back around when he reached the kitchen door. “I know you want to be with me on the hunt but...” he looked where Ginny had sat moments before. “I care more for Ginny than I ever thought possible for another human being,” he shared a knowing glance with Hermione. “If this opportunity can be used to keep her safe...”

It was that statement with the raw emotions playing through his sensitive eyes that broke Hermione's heart: “I will,” she said. “If this is the only way I can help you, I will do it.”

Harry bowed his head, tears began to slip down his cheek: “Hermione,” his voice was rough. “I know it will be hard. I mean Snape was a class A jerk to you as a pupil. I dread to think what he'd be like as your employer.”

Hermione smiled weakly: “I will manage.”

Harry nodded and walked up the stairs leaving a pensive Hermione sitting at the Weasley kitchen table. She closed the Prophet and went to write her application for the post.

**Compromise**

It turned out Hermione _did_ have competition for the post but the plan was to hire her, though Headmaster Snape did not make it easy for her.

She did not make it easy for him either. Last time he had seen her she was a pale faced student standing outside his office where he had literally stunned Flitwick. What stood before him now was a professionally dressed Miss Granger. Hair controlled in a French plait sitting comfortably against her spine. Navy skirt robes, with silk white blouse, with pearl translucent buttons. French manicured nails showed she understood the seriousness of the position. Matching navy kitten heel sandals that made her just a couple of inches taller.

Pert C-cup breasts stretched over the silk blouse, tantalisingly round and feminine. Another reminder that this was no longer a child but a young witch. Gods, her eyes, did she always have little green and gold flecks in them? Were they always so beautifully innocent and wide? Really, even if it was not a plan, she would have been hired for being a combination of all things great about womanhood.

However, despite their neutral location, a Muggle café in London, they were being watched. Silver grey eyes twinkled icily at the scene before him. Jealousy erupted through him. The moment he saw her, he knew her potential. Now she was giving smiles and professional answers to the one who stole his son's glory – the backstabbing, ungrateful wretch!

Well, we'll see...

The silent spy left with a crack of Apparition back to his quarters where the Dark Lord was waiting on a throne like chair set on a dais – literally lording over all!

“Well, Lucius, I am too impatient for formality, just tell me who he is currently interviewing.”

Nodding, Lucius allowed his Lord inside his head to view the scene as witnessed by him. The Dark Lord drew back with a hiss of Parseltongue.

“My my,” his eyes glowed a neon red, Lucius deduced he was both angry and delighted at the same time. “The little mudblood has grown quite lovely has she not? Applying to be librarian... One can almost see the beauty of having Potter's pet under our watchful gaze. What is her name, Lucius?”

“Miss Hermione Jean Granger, my Lord.”

“Hermione,” the Dark Lord wrapped her given name around his tongue. “Quite a lovely name. At least her sewer rat parents has a certain class to name their child after both a Greek Princess _and_ a Heroine of Shakespeare.”

“He still went against your orders, my Lord,” Lucius reminded his Lord.

“Ah yes, one can almost understand why, but you are correct.”

He lazily Crucio'd Lucius for no reason other than boredom as he mused over what to do with Severus and his positioning a Mudblood albeit an attractive... No, he was the Dark Lord, he was above such things but she _will be there_ the whole year. Oh yes, Severus will employ the long limbed woman, but under _certain_ conditions.

He allowed a few hours to pass by before he called Severus.

A wary Headmaster answered the call: “My Lord?”

Good, he's scared and he should be: “Imagine my surprise when I opened the Prophet last week and found you had advertised for a position without consulting me, Severus?” The Lord was aware of the stuttering of his follower's heart. “My _disappointment_ in your faithlessness that I, your wise Lord, was thought to be unable to bring forward a worthy candidate to fulfil the desired position at my ancestor's school.” Desired position, Voldemort smirked. Yes, Miss Granger, bent over the desks in the Restricted section – bum up, legs hip width apart whilst he, the Lord, serviced her from behind. “Well, that I can almost forgive, you are Headmaster after all, and I trust you to be able to make _executive_ decisions,” Severus warily watched the Lord fiddle about with his... er... Jr Basiisk. The bulge in the Dark Lord's robes was obviously caused by a delightful vision, though what the Lord thought when he had public erections was barely worth thinking about for normal mankind. “I am merciful – however – it seems you have somewhat gone against all what we are fighting for.”

“I am nothing if not loyal my Lord!” Severus gasped as he grovelled with humiliation at Voldemort's feet.

“Ah, I wish I could believe you, but when you interview Mudbloods for such exalted roles in our society one has to wonder...”

Severus gulped: “I have no idea what you are referring too.”

“No,” the Lord tilted his head. “I re-read that advertisement earlier and could only think of a few people to whom it may have been suited to based on the duties in your description.”

“My Lord, I have no idea what...”

“SILENCE!” The Dark Lord shouted in his normally high pitched voice. “Now, back to the advertisement,” The Dark Lord sat back and began palming his penis as he imagined Miss Granger's ordered plait to come undone. “Yet out of those few, there was only one I could think of that _really_ suited.” Navy and white, tight, pressing against soft quivering nubile flesh, he was now at full mast. Severus continued looking at the floor as the Lord allowed his excitement to get the better of him. “One who happens to be the best friend of my mortal enemy.”

“My Lord, Albus Dumbledore is...”

“Not him, the other one, the Brat Who Won't Die!”

“She applied; I thought it best to keep up appearances and, at least, interview her.”

The Dark Lord bucked into his hand as the vision of Hermione twisted in unnatural angles writhing beneath him, on a luxuriant wolf fur rug by a fireplace in absinthe green lingerie, rolling her head moaning in pleasure before he transported her to a bed of green and silver satin, burst forth as vividly real as it could be. He would have to have this witch.

The Dark Lord's eyes rolled back in his head as he imagined the cries of Potter's mudblood – he came – some splatted on Severus' robes. The Dark Lord slumped into his seat panting. Once he had recovered Severus dared to look up.

“So, what shall I do, my Lord?”

“Well, the damage is done now,” he said coldly. “You have received your punishment, you are to wear my issue on your robes for the rest of the day, _including_ dinner later.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Oh, and Severus, you must make the mudblood aware that she is open game for any of my followers throughout the school year. You are to tell her that she will be expected also to refer to me as her Lord.”

“A fitting degradation for Potter's filth.”

“Good,” the Lord declared.

Severus knew better than to breathe a sigh of relief as moments later a post-orgasmic Dark Lord sent a wave of Crucio's on Severus. The Dark Lord got up and swept out of the room in a way to make Severus always envious. He laid there panting on the floor aware he cannot put clean robes on; his humiliation had been worth it as he remembered the end of the interview.

_“Thank you, Miss Granger, I think it is a waste of time for me to say my answer is in the post. Be prepared to be at Hogwarts on August the 25th – enough time to settle yourself in – get re-acquainted with the Library.”_

_“Is that all, Headmaster?” she asked._

_He was absolutely awed by her respectful tone and gaze despite what he had done. She was standing there tall as she could: spine straight, elegant and smiling graciously. Being just perfectly Hermione Granger._

_“Yes, that is all, I have your Gringotts vault. I have a point of contact,” the Joke Shop, Snape shuddered, but at least the twins were logical enough to realise that they had to sell to Death Eater children as well as Order children. Sometimes he regretted they were not Slytherins. “Also, as we are now colleagues, you may call me **Severus** and I do hope I am allowed the same courtesy of calling you **Hermione**.”_

_“Of course,” she gazed down shyly. “It would be odd to be referred to as Miss Granger if you are calling Professor Sprout, Pomona.”_

_He allowed a small smile at her attempt as a joke. “I shall be looking forward to having you under my employ,” he said. Merlin, she was a pretty blusher and he wondered how far down her blouse it went. “I do hope you have enough to cope for not just your duties but others...”_

_“You **do** recall my third year, do you not?” she smirked._

_“Ah yes,” he replied. He did not want to let her out of his sight. Who would such a vision? “What do... How...” they both said at the same time._

_They laughed awkwardly; “Well farewell, Severus,” she said warmly._

A man could live on her smiles alone. For her, like he could only do for one other, he would suffer any amount of humiliation.

Alas – darkness took over again – he could not bare to break the news to her. For all she may have annoyed him in the past, she was still an innocent. If Pince could not stand the thought of Amycus Carrow near her precious books, to allow him near the lovely and unique Miss Gran... Hermione... was a crime against nature!

**Introductions**

August the 24th was a scene of tearful farewells between the trio. The Dark Lord had held off the planned attack on the Weasley wedding so as not to cause Miss Granger distress. He wanted her lulled in a false sense of security. That she was safe to leave her friends. He knew that Potter and his loyal dog would not return to the school but she would. Arrayed in professional robes. Ink splattering over her button nose. Hair in wild disarray.

The Dark Lord would have been ashamed to admit that he had masturbated quite a lot to her if he had a conscience. She reminded him of what Bella was like before darkness corrupted her. He had not corrupted someone innocent in ever so long. He needed more innocence gone from this world to justify his own claims.

He had ordered the Carrow's to treat Miss Granger with respect. Not to allow their natures to come to the fore too much. The girl was to be unharmed until it was visibly clear Severus had told her what was to happen.

“Welcome everyone,” Headmaster Snape said to the teachers in the staff room at Five Thirty PM on the 29th. “School will be in session in less than two days time. Might I remind you that I am the Headmaster of this school. I will not tolerate mindless rule breaking that has been synonymous with years past. There will be no curfew breakers, kitchen plunderers, aimless wanderings in the Forbidden Forest, as such – this year will be a _different_ year. We are operating under a challenging new era. All punishments are to be verified through me first. A student so much as _sneezes_ out of turn will be expected to suffer grave consequences. I may remind you that previously you had worked under lacks-a-daisical governing, that any student – I mean Any Student – caught breaking the laws will be sent to Professor Amycus Carrow our new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor for correction.”

Hermione gulped as a rather tall, vicious looking man with a permanent sneer etched on his face, bowed to everyone in the room. He stopped to consider her and licked his lips. His eyes sparkled as he noticed the skirt of her robes had hitched over her knee. She followed his gaze and immediately lowered the hem of her skirt a good two inches with her wand.

“As you are also aware our esteemed Librarian Irma Pince has decided to retire early from her position,” again Hermione felt eyes on her. A cold woman was staring rather interestedly at her. Somehow her coal black gaze made Hermione more uncomfortable than Amycus leer. “This put me in a precarious place,” he then indicated Hermione. Shyly she stood up and glanced nervously at past teachers. Amycus had whispered _'finite incantatum'_ so her skirt was back to original length. All eyes gazed at her, most of them relieved she was at least within their safety net. They would all band as one to protect her as much as they could. “As you can see, there was only one candidate worthy enough to fill Irma's shoes, I am sure she needs no further introduction, however, as is custom I shall remind you: Madam Hermione Granger, our new librarian.”

Their eyes met over the heads of the teachers and she smiled as she recalled his first speech when she was the tender hearted 11 year old child she once was. Here she stood, nearly 18, with all the poise and elegance of one much older. Still, she smirked at the blatant similarities between the old and the new. The last three words only they would understand. It was their first in-joke and she felt like Madam Granger, adult Witch, when he regarded her seriously through onyx eyes.

“Any questions,” he said.

Minerva held up her hand, she was proud of her prized cub now Pride Queen: “As Hermione is not yet fully qualified will she still be able to do her NEWTS?”

Hermione wished her old head of house had not asked that. It was the one question that caused her the most pain. She would never be a qualified witch. With only mediocre OWLS behind her, Hermione's eyes stung with tears. She was about to sit down and remain as against the wall as she possibly could but HIS voice – his melodic, deep, timbre stopped her from doing so.

“If that is Hermione's wish,” he sighed. She peered up to him through her lashes and blushed. “Madam, do you wish to also study for your NEWTS.”

“If it is acceptable, Severus,” she answered quietly.

A round of surprised gasps echoed through the room as they heard her speak his first name. That had not been allowed for them until he was their colleague for five years. Minerva was somewhat gobsmacked. Pomona could have fainted in her tea. Aurora looked at something interesting on the carpet but it was Professor Vector that held a smug smile on her face. She had calculated a romantic outcome for Severus and she had just heard the numbers click properly in her head.

“There, Minerva, Hermione will be taking her NEWTS by December.”

Hermione paled at the thought but, well, she had the whole library to herself – she could do it – and the staff members were sure to help her out as would some of her friends.

“December?” huffed Minerva, that was definitely not enough time. “The child is...”

“Is a young woman who could have gone through her NEWTS blindfolded in her fourth year,” said Flitwick. “We will support her.”

“Yeah,” Amycus grinned, his gravelly voice did little to appease her. “Jus' come to us and we'll helps you.”

Hermione shuddered at the suggestiveness of his tone.

“Hermione, I wish to see you in my office,” Snape swept out of the staff room being followed by a meek and beautiful young lady.

The trip to the Headmaster's office was done in companionable silence. She risked looking up at him. Faltering a little, surely he was not this tall? Perhaps he was. Hermione had never thought of teachers as men and women, but as an exalted species in their own right, as beyond the boundaries of Man and Woman. Now she was in the presence of Severus Snape, Headmaster and boss, she realised how foolish that notion was. For here was MAN.

Elegant, noble nose, it was not large or ugly at all. It was noble, she decided. Sallow skinned yes, but he would not suit a tan. Thin sensual lips pressed pensively over square chin and jaw. High cheekbones defined his features. The way his robes flapped in his confident wake had always amazed her. Then his hands, piano playing hands, wide span – long thin fingers threading through her hair aroused and stimulated her imagination. She used to be enraptured by how they danced, caressed and seduced the ingredients on the potions table to do his bidding. It was like he and the cauldron were at one with another. Hermione made sure to look at those hands as often as she could – from her fifth year on – she had naughty dreams based on what those hands _alone_ could do to her. Then, she sighed, there were his legs. Powerful, lithe, elegant as they dodged between the tables in the dungeons. She blushed when she remembered being pressed against his legs the night they discovered Lupin’s furry little secret and how he reached over with his arm around her waist pulling her tightly in his protective embrace. A rather heady experience for a 14-year-old girl who was already at the starting lines of a few powerful crushes.

“Your thoughts can betray you, young Padawan,” he smirked.

“You know Star Wars?” her admiration for the man just went up several notches.

“Indeed, as do you, it seems.”

“My fat... fath...” she sniffed trying to forget what she did to her loving parents. “Father and I watched them all the time on video. Do you know...”

“I am half muggle, Hermione, I have been to the cinema – gone to football matches – I have _even_ worn a pair of jeans in my time.”

Hermione groaned, she did not need that image in her head now. Suddenly her attention was caught on his buttocks and oh, how tempting it was to see if they were as firm as they looked.

“If you are a good girl, Hermione, I may allow you to touch some parts of my person.”

Again Hermione blushed: “Sorry,” she muttered pushing some hair behind her ear.

They reached the Headmaster's office where he offered her tea. She accepted black Earl Grey with a hint of lemon. It was Snape's turn to be exalted with joy over a preference.

“Ah, had I known you understood Earl Grey tea, I would not have been so disparaging over your essays.”

“No, I liked your style of teaching,” she confessed. “It challenged me and I did try, honestly I did, but...”

“Hush,” he said placing a finger to her peach coloured lips. “I know you did – and you at least grasped semantics if you could not – read between the lines. Though I am willing to unleash your creativity – everyone has something they like to make up for themselves. A new law, a new spell, or potion. Now, I did not ask you here to talk about that.”

“No?”

“No,” he said. “I invited you here under orders from a special guest.”

As soon as he said that, Snape opened the window and in flew a dark and forbidding shape. One that soon revealed himself to be Lord Voldemort. Hermione's gasp of shock was quickly released as she soon took her wand out of her hair and pointed it at them.

“It is all right little one,” Lord Voldemort said. “I am not here to duel. I wish to discuss pleasant things. Has Severus said you could do your NEWTS?”

Hermione nodded: “Yes, sir,” she said.

“ _Sir_ , so you do respect me?”

“Anyone would be a fool not to,” she said breathlessly.

“A gem,” the Dark Lord began circling her. She felt a hand through her ponytail. “Indeed, Severus I envy you, being able to be around Miss Granger all day long – it may drive him mad – however he has come up with some ideas.”

Severus watched as the Dark Lord petted and played with the young witch's hair. “No,” she said. “What has he left out?”

“Oh nothing,” the Dark Lord stood closer to her, it was fun messing with the innocents. She smelled sweetly divine: Strawberries, coconut, vanilla, oh gods and was that - he leaned in and licked his lips; it was, a scent one can only find in the magical world. Beneath the sweet, fruity, concoction was the underlying phenomenal,  _pheromonal_ scent of a wild Kneazle. Intoxicating when diluted to this witch's skin. “It was nice to properly meet you, Hermione, I do so hope you will come to the Malfoy Ball at Christmas – there we can get to know one another properly.”

With that Lord Voldemort stepped around gracefully and lifted her hand to his lips: “Sir,” she said though her heart was pumping at 80mpm and her mouth was dry. “It was good to meet again in more civilised surroundings.”

“It was indeed, and the pleasure is all mine,” he raked his eyes over her form. He could now add feel, scent, and taste to his imaginings. She was going to be his Christmas to New Years present. With an elegant bow The Dark Lord said his goodbyes to Severus in a fatherly hug.

“Have your fantasies fulfilled Severus,” he whispered in his servant's ear, “Do remember though that she is to be shared, not spared, I want her in my bed at Christmas Eve, to unwrap – do this for me – then we will overlook your error at ignoring my will over this issue.”

“Yes my Lord,” Severus said monotonously. He wished not to convey how he desired her beyond what he thought. Bloody hell, just three months ago she was a bloody student! “I will make sure to tell her that is your will.”

Once the Dark Lord left Severus sighed and indicated a seat; “What was that about?” she asked tilting her head.

“Hermione – the Dark Lord was unhappy I had gone behind his back to hire you, so...”

“So?” she was frightened, more than she would ever admit to, but she was. She did not think he was angry but one never knew with soul splitting snake men. “He has conditions, yes?”

“Yes, this was not my intention but,” he stepped up close and crouched down taking her sweet little hands in his. “HE has made sure to tell you that as I am your boss – he is – shall we say, Company Director. What he says goes now, in Wizarding Britain.”

“This does not sound good,” she said shrinking into the chair as much as she could. “What does he require for me to be here?”

Severus sighed; “You are to become a Death Eater's play thing.”

Hermione's skin turned ghostly white making her freckles stand out; “I am t-t-too...”

“Become our whore, you may say no, I am sure he does not wish you _not_ to enjoy the experience but you must, mostly, say yes.”

Her dream job, the one she was excited about, had suddenly turned into a nightmare but there was a glimmer of hope: “Just the Death Eaters?”

“No,” he said. “He wants you to be his Christmas date and New Years companion.”

Hermione gulped was about to get up but crashed down in a wave of fog and dark on the Headmaster's floor. Severus bent over her checking her for shock. Casting an enervate he waited patiently for her to wake up. She did so in but a few moments. He helped her to the couch and offered her a glass of water. Zombie-like she took the tumbler of water and gulped it down without knowing what she was doing.

“Hermione?” Severus tapped her knee with his wand. Reflexes working all right then. “Hermione, I do know it is a shock to suddenly find oneself the object of fascination for... well... him,” he watched her lids blink owlishly before slowly turning her head. “I am sure no harm shall come to you – I advise you to keep quiet, listen to him, make sure you agree with him when it is within your conscience to do so, and speak when you are spoken too.”

“That's just him,” she sighed. “There are others that desire me too, Professor,” she looked up at him, eyes shining earnestly beseeching him to see her point. Not that she had too. The point was already lodging residency in his fretful heart. “Are you going to give me personal tips for all of them?”

“No,” Severus sighed; “I will be expected to play with you too. Are you a ...”

Hermione blushed: “No, I lost that when I was 16 at a pre-Term party with an old friend. We dated as often as we could but he is in Canada now studying wolves.”

Severus grimaced: “I see,” his experiences had led him to rather despise dogs of all shapes and sizes. He loved cats and a ginger one had leapt from nowhere to settle on Hermione's lap. Severus gave a start as he recognised the squashed features of the feline. “Hello Crookshanks,” he said scratching the cat behind the ear.

“How do you know his name?” Hermione gasped with admiration at the ex-Potions Master. “He really likes you. Better than Sirius.”

“A feline of excellent taste,” he grinned, “now where were we...”

**Dipping Into The Company Ink**

It was always said that when you require help go to a busy person. Hermione was like a bee. Though she was not as paranoid about pupils going near the books as Pince was – she was still firm and strict about victuals and spilled non-charmed ink pots. One can only get too lax. It was on the 15th of September that she received a letter via owl at the breakfast table. She was made to sit between Snape and Amycus. Showing the whole school she was Death Eater property.

Amycus always insisted on wrapping a long black arm around her shoulders. Hermione had given up on removing it because it would only land there again. She sat as far away as she could possibly go from him. The silver lined black vellum parchment with the the emerald green seal was all it took for her to know who was writing to her.

Getting up she turned to the Headmaster: “If I may be excused, Headmaster.”

“Of course,” he said eyeing the seal and inwardly growled. Why? Why can't he leave one – just one – pure thing in this world?

Once Hermione was on her own she rushed to the library, already the doors opened to her the way they used to for Pince. Filch was in there sweeping up nipped quill ends, torn parchments and general debris a thousand students could leave in one day. Hermione was shocked to find him courteous and pleasant towards her now she was a staff member, even more so when Mrs Norris sat and purred on her lap. She was sure that Filch knew what it was like... to be her! That was a scary thought, but she was not about to brush aside any sort of friendship. Sometimes she actually found Argus funny and Mrs Norris reminded her remarkably of Crookshanks, who was inexplicably drawn to Severus in the same way he was drawn to another innocent – not leaving him alone for one moment. Severus was wonderful with him.

“That from him?” Filch grunted.

Hermione sighed and nodded. “Could you stay with me, Argus,” her voice trembled.

“I'll tell the little oiks to scarper, shall I?”

“No, just, stay as support – as a – friend?”

Argus puffed out his chest, a little proud that this pretty little delicate creature considered him a friend. Hermione sat down on the nearest chair and rubbed the seal – it popped open to her DNA. The silver writing glittered and sparkled against the dark green of the sheet within. Could he be any more obvious?

_“Sweet little Librarian_

_Are you thinking of me as I am of you? The more that your friends slip my fingers the more my mind turns to you – are you brave enough to face their punishment on yourself? Of course, no, I would not do that to you my sweet little librarian..._

_My mind is on you all the time, as I hope you are aware, are my eyes and ears. I hope you're behaving dear witch, we would not want your friends to be hurt, I am sure to capture them soon. It is only a matter of time before I SEEK out what I desire._

_As for what I desire, I cannot wait upon the Yuletide Break, when you are to be my companion. Are you as anxious as I for those two weeks when we shall be each others? When my arms shall protect and hold you as no other can, as I worship you and delight in hearing you call me that which I wish you too. To hear those words from your supple, full, tender lips would make me happy indeed._

_Perhaps it can be my birthday present? I await your heart with the style of devotion only you are worthy of bestowing._

_Oh to feel your wild, beautiful hair in my fingers, to press your silken flesh against mine, for our breaths to mingle as I search for your treasure, your little pink pearl that could break you in moments. My dear darling little Librarian. How can I, the most feared Wizard, be rendered so by your lithe limbs and wide Saharan eyes._

_Yes, dear one, I need you, but I can hold on. I am patient. For two weeks you and I will be as one!_

_Your gracious Lord,_

_Voldemort.”_

Tears dripped down the corner of her eyes as she paled and shook with fear, when she looked up Snape was there with a calming draught. Hermione took a long gulp before gasping and twisting her face in something akin to disgust at the taste but it worked. The hint of lavender and honey only making itself known once the potion took effect.

“He c-calls m-me h-his sweet l-little...” suddenly Severus was upon her fainting form. “Argus, tell the students the library is closed. I am going to look after her in my office,” the Caretaker nodded.

Importance marked his countenance as he hobbled off to the Great Hall to make the announcement personally. No one would dare go against his orders – he could make it extremely nasty for them. Especially if they threatened Miss Granger.

When he got there the kids had all just finished their breakfasts and all eyes were turned on him. Ginny did not like how Hermione's steps teetered on the way out, nor did she take kindly to the complexion on her friends face. She hoped she was going to get some answers. Ginny hated the fact that Hermione was forced to sit in-between the slime-balls of Slytherin.

Alecto had made her way up to the wheezing squib and sneered as she demanded what it was he wanted cast. Grudgingly, she performed the sonorous – this man may have been a squib but he was as thick-skinned as tenderised dragon hide.

“HOGWARTS STUDENTS,” he yelled. “ALL HOMEWORK IS TO BE CONDUCTED IN COMMON ROOMS – LIBRARY IS CLOSED TODAY DUE TO MADAM GRANGER'S AILMENT!”

His beady eyes fixed on each and every one of them. “How is she ill?” demanded the Irish Gryffindor.

“She took to a faint in the 'eadmaster's arms,” Filch sneered back. “She is being looked after.”

Ginny scowled, she did not like that the murdering bastard was always around her friend. She decided to get to the bottom of this and strode off to the Headmasters office with the intent to demand to see Hermione. Convinced in her own mind that the Potions Master had brewed up her friend's slow, and painful death. The gargoyle surprisingly sprang open for her and she took the stairs two at a time, her pony tail swinging around her shoulders as she climbed the spiral stairs to the office. The door was open.

“I had a feeling you would arrive, Miss Weasley,” Snape sighed. “She's comatose on my bed.”

Ginny blinked. She rushed to the door he had indicated imagining her friend to be shivering on the floor and raped to within an inch of her life. What she did not expect to see was the scene laid out in front of her.

Her friend, laying there, perfectly content. Dressed in a silver silk pyjama set that she remembered giving her as a birthday present. Her hair loose from it's chaotic bun spilling all over the green pillows. The picture of serenity and calm. Stunned she walked out and looked at Snape who was staring blankly out of the window. His thumbs twitching behind his back as if he wanted to kill someone.

“What's wrong with her, she looks fine to me?” Ginny said.

“Miss Weasley,” Severus sighed, he paced the floor a few times, It looked to the redhead like he was at war with himself as if he was weighing serious pros and cons. “Miss Weasley,” he said again. Ginny frowned. “I... Miss Weasley... I...,” he sighed.

“Tell her then,” a snide voice interrupted what was surely the weirdest moment in her life, and she'd been abused mentally by the Dark Lord. “She can keep a secret, can't ye gel?”

Dumbly, Ginny nodded, “Uh-huh,” was all she managed to say.

“Fine,” the Headmaster strode towards a closet and opened it up. He wheeled out a Pensive. A stone basin that was enchanted to show memories. “Your friend is going to need help, she is going to need it from someone who has been there.”

“O-kay,” Ginny said slowly,

“Sit down,” Snape said, the redhead did as she was told.

After an hour of story-telling via mouth and Pensive memories Ginny was dumbfounded more than ever. After she witnessed the letter Tom had sent to Hermione her heart burned a white-hot fury.

“You know as well as I he cannot be denied. She will need you and I will not have her vilified for being a slut – she is so much more pure than that. Miss Weasley, I have only ever known one other witch in my lifetime like her and I feel that one was a shadow or portent of this one – I like her. I do not want her harmed. Yet I am going to have to. I do not wish it, or desire it, but Madam Granger will have to... with me...”

“I knew there was something dodgy about that advert,” Ginny muttered. “And you were meant to... after all...” she wound her wrists in circles not wishing to say what she had found out.

“Yes,” the Headmaster sighed. “I need Hermione to stay sane, if you can be there for her after Christmas Break, I would...”

“I will sir,” she said standing up from her chair. “As for the rest of it,” she looked again at the pensieve and then at Dumbledore's unsurprisingly empty frame. “I will think about that too, sir.”

Once she left Dumbledore reappeared, his eyes not twinkling, his mouth set in a grim line: “You have ruined our plan, Severus, and for what?”

“Well forgive me, Headmaster, if all I wanted was to have the odd friendly face around here to remind me that the world is not full of cold, calculating, men and mad, deranged, women. Now I know Hermione will have a guard to protect her I can rest easy in my own doom laden rest.”

It was Murphys Law, Hermione supposed, that the more you wanted something the more time stretched to its limit, the less looking forward to something you were, it seemed to accelerate at an arrows pace.

It seemed the Dark Lord had rescinded his promise that Hermione would have to service all his Death Eaters sexually in favour of just him and Severus. It was mid-November when the full reality had hit upon her that it was only four weeks to go when students would be going home. She had received a letter from Narcissa of invitation to the Manor – encouraging her more into the arms of their Lord. For two whole weeks she was going to be arm candy for their Lord. She had no Lord or Master. She had friends.

“I do not want to, Severus,” she said one evening in his most secret quarters. They had struck up a close friendship the past few months, and he was surprised she had become as articulate as she had. “I just – the thought – please,” she kneeled down on the floor at his feet. Covering his knees with her hands as her doe-eyes begged him silently to use that abnormally large brain of his to think of a way out. “Severus, please?”

Severus, please! How he hated those two words together, it was those two words that sent him into this hell-hole of a life. Lucius pleading with him to come to his Manor at Christmas as he was nervous of one of his father's friends. It was Severus, please: That made him want to do well in the Dark Lord's service. A Severus, please: That urged him out of it again. A Severus, please: The reason he was now the hated man in all of Wizarding Britain. Yet, to see this angel, mahogany locks haloed by the fire behind her, shimmering on her golden skin, the picture of perfect innocence that did it for him.

Suddenly he realised his lips were on her skin, her throat, heavily petting her around the jaw and back to the mouth again. Hands tilting her face upwards as he kissed her mouth. Fluidly, Hermione rose to meet his powerful kiss. Her little fingers twirling in the feather light hairs at the back of his neck. Breathlessly taken with each other.

His hands soon roved down her neck to her sides. She quivered underneath the heat of his fingers exploring her clothed body but she was too drunk on him now to care as she pushed closer to him. Scrabbling at the clasp of his outer robe to take it off. Not knowing what Fae it was that possessed her in the moment she grabbed one hand and placed it firmly on her breast urging him to massage the flesh, they moaned in each other's hungry mouths as she now found herself flipped on her back on the werewolf rug in front of the flame. He sank down on his knees shakily undoing his belt and unzipped his trousers whilst she was hurriedly undressing herself.

Wine and built up sexual tension had lead to this moment and neither would give the other a choice to say no now it was upon them. Once they had taken off their clothes her arms reached out, snaked around his neck as she lifted herself up off the floor to kiss him passionately, she gasped when she felt the length of him against her core. He reached his fingers between their bodies and started to coax her centre into releasing natures lubricants.

“Sh-shouldn't we...” she began to say but he cut her off with a kiss before she became sensible.

The flames painted shadows danced and weaved with the two lovers. She spread her legs wider as his fingers pushed her folds apart to it's beating pulsing heart of desire – he wanted her to be as ready for him as he had been for her since the start of term. She arched her back as his face fell between her breasts and he swiped the sensitive flesh with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Her fingers playing about with his scalp as his other hand worked the other breast. He placed his thigh on her now dripping core.

They were taken over by lusts passion. Teeth, tongue, lips, hands, fingers, legs, feet, everything of every part of theirs were used for arousal. Then, she did something that surprised them both. She clamped her legs around his hips and rolled them around so he was now on his back and she sat on top of him – sweat began to run in rivulets down her neck, between the valley of her breasts and he was captivated by it. Trailing the same path with one of his fingertips.

“You are the most beautiful witch I have ever met,” he rumbled.

The depth of the sentiment and tone resonated within her as she moaned and rolled her head back. She lifted her hips up to see his slightly curved 8 inch penis thickening and pulsing. Looking like some beast with a mind of its own. She was fascinated by it. The swollen head, turgid and angry weeping with pre-cum. If that was not a marker of the truth of his statement she did not know what was. He observed with hooded eyes as she tilted her head to the side appraising it the way a kitten would a spider. Uncertain but mesmerised.

“I can do that... to you...?”

“Do not doubt the veracity of your own eyes,” he answered.

She looked at him then, through the fire's haze, the pupils seemed to burn red but that was not correct. Only one man had red eyes and she was not with that monster, she was with Headmaster Snape. Employ... oh no....

She quickly scrambled off and sat back as if she had been kicked by an invisible punch in the gut.

“Hermione, what...”

“No,” she shook her head. “No no no no no,” her mouth could only utter one word it seemed.

“What's wrong?”

“You're my boss – and my Headmaster - it's forbidden.”

“What do you mean?” he was thoroughly stumped. One minute he was going to have hot sex in front of the fire after a pleasant evening with even more pleasant company. Now he was flat on his back at full mast with an hysterical witch that seemed terrified. She told him she lost her virginity, did she lie? “Hermione, what have I done wrong?”

“No, not you, us … we … look,” she hurriedly put on what she could before standing up. “I don't know what it is in the Wizarding World but in the Muggle one there is a saying: Do not dip your pen in the company ink.”

He started to chuckle: “Hermione, with how small the Wizarding world is we tend to stamp our messages in the company wax...”

Ah, that was the Wizarding version. “I c-can't it's wrong. You're my boss, before that my teacher and it's...” he stood up as elegantly as a panther and stalked her until she bumped against the wall. “Just... wrong!”

“All right, you are uncomfortable with this, but tell me – Hermione – how do you think this is going to go? I have made no secret of my regard for you. Nor have you for me. What is really the issue here?”

“I just need to process this – I know we are going to do it someday – on your Lord's orders or no, but I need to be sober and careful...”

“Upon my word, we shall make a Slytherin of you yet,” he murmured seductively in her ear, “my dear sweet Hermione, I shall give you all the time in the world.”

“Sadly we do not have that, sir,” she sighed.

This was too complicated. Only this time last year she was broken hearted over Ron and Lavender. Now she was here with Severus Snape, a man she had wanted praise from all her teenage life - at 18 she finally had it.

She did not need this whilst sitting for her NEWTS as well. He captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that could have become more had she not gently pushed him away.

“After Christmas,” she said. “That's when I am yours.”

The moment she left the chambers Severus took an ice cold shower. To speed up the process of dwindling his impressive rod Severus began to think of Hagrid in a pink tutu.

**After The Holidays**

Severus hated it when the children returned from holiday. This time he dreaded it more so than ever. The dwindling population was disheartening. This, he grimaced, this is HIS vision? Oh Lily, why did I not listen to you? Did you know? He heaved a sigh, at least the boys had the sword and destroyed one part of him. It happened whilst Hermione was in that maniac's bed.

The effect scared Hermione. Voldemort convulsed in agony for what seemed like hours before gulping in heavy breaths of air and settling his sweat soaked body beside her. Not that Hermione wished or desired to be where she was. She followed Severus advice to the letter. She was the silent sheep following him. Even when he thrust her against the wall to unleash his arsenal of passions and hexes at her there was nothing she would say that did not sound like a Clanger. Not that Tom Riddle would know what _Clangers_ were.

She sat there, pale but elegantly poised, between him and Amycus. Alecto grabbed Snape's hand and smirked evilly.

“This is the last term for many of you. NEWTS are but a short step away towards a glittering future. However, one has her NEWT scores in my hand. Madam Granger, Rise.” Hermione did so and turned to face the Headmaster as he offered her a long thick scroll. “Your scores. Tap the parchment – I want the whole school to see what can be done...”

Hermione took a sigh – deep breath – she took the scroll and tapped the wand against the seal and it unrolled. Once she did so she tapped the parchment. The scores stood in Green, Yellow, Blue and Red flames.

“These are the scores of Hermione Jean Granger – Muggleborn – Gryffindor.

**ANCIENT RUNES: O (95%)** \- _Grasps the most basics of all Runic languages and made some interesting spells with them. Will be on the look out for her skills in this area._  
**ARITHMANCY: O (1OO%)** \- _She went through the calculations like no one we have ever seen. She can be an amazing Arithmancer. The variables she could work out will help in so many fields._  
**CHARMS: O (100%)** \- _Not only were her theories original and flawlessly argued, her spell work was artwork in itself. I daresay, given encouragement, she could become a powerful witch._  
**DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: HIGH E (75%)** \- _Her answers were neat, concise and her use of references to real life situations and realisation that Dark does not necessarily mean evil, her practical let her down but that was due to the only physical education received at Hogwarts is for Quidditch. Training routines should become the norm. However, in the short space she had to prepare this in she managed to overcome her basic fears. Her Patronus was first rate!_  
**HERBOLOGY: Low O (55%)** \- _She must have elementary knowledge in this; flowers and our own herbs are vital to curing and some spell work, but her fingers are lacking that green element needed to be a true Herbalist. However, we understand the constraints around her situation. Miss Granger could become one if she so desired or had the right tutor._  
**HISTORY OF MAGIC: O (80%)** \- _How she crammed all the information on the Goblin Wars, Founders, Mermaids Council, that takes an amazingly intricate brain. Her answers were not Ministry approved, however, they were not wrong._  
**MUGGLE STUDIES: LOW O (52%)** \- _Suspecting she is from actual Muggles I would have thought she was better than this in knowledge of her own world._  
**POTIONS: O (1OO%)** \- _Well, this was not a surprise to those of us who were lucky to be in the same room as her and watch her flawlessly make the three different potions we asked. She executed them all well and did so without burning herself which is always a plus. She also showed us different ways of chopping and preparing certain ingredients which we have only seen one other student do. Her knowledge on the properties of all herbs and ingredients was incredible. She could easily become a Mistress with the right training. She'd need to expand her creativity but this was amazing._  
**TRANSFIGURATION: O (100%)** \- _WHAT CAN WE SAY? Except that this is the best we have seen yet. Not in all our combined years of 437 have we seen a witch as young as her, as fast as her – achieve status of Registered ANIMAGUS! A must to become a Master or Mistress of the craft. She did not even remember to use her wand, just looked at the object and it changed to what we wanted it to. This is the most amazing work. I am sure this Witch has a bright future ahead of her!_

TOTALS:  
SIX HIGH OUTSTANDINGS  
TWO LOW OUTSTANDINGS  
ONE LOW EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS

_This Witch is the one that we shall set the example for the others of her year. She really took it all in her stride. Her picture will be going in the Hall of Fame.”_

Hermione blushed when she realised everyone was looking at her: “Welcome to the now legalised Witch Madam Hermione Granger – with 9 NEWTS of high scores! Now, why not show the school your Animagus,” Minerva stood up and led her around the staff table.

“How I wish this day did not have to come,” tears fell down Minerva's cheek, “I wish it for all of you. To be able to remain as children.”

Hermione hugged her Mentor and Minerva sat back on the bench. With a deep breath, Hermione relaxed her muscles. Entered into a trance like state. Her form was one of speculation amongst the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The nasty girls all thought she would turn into a worm. The friendlier ones were hoping for a cat like Minerva, or lap dog.

They watched, awestruck as Hermione's hand turned into a light grey paw. Then she dropped on all fours, the other paw showed an intricate black webbing amongst sandy and white fur. Long thick lines grew and entwined around the legs. Her body had become longer. Her tail thickened and grew along with matching sandy, ginger and black stripes fading into a fluffy silver tip. She was a beautiful white siberian tiger.

Her face though had all boys interested and all girls drooling – thin black stripes in the shape of Hermione's curls, framed her features and top of the head. Her brown eyes focussed on a little first year Slytherin by the name of Hilda. Hilda gulped but sat still as Hermione padded her way to the little girl. She sat on her haunches laying her head in the girls lap and looked up at with a dopey expression on her face causing the girl to giggle. Severus realised then, that this witch was his, and he would live to see her with him.

“You're beautiful, when I grow up I want to be just like you!” she whispered scratching behind Hermione's fluffy ears.

Hermione purred at this and then padded her way back round the staff table and re-shaped herself to Hermione Granger to a big round of applause, Hilda doing the best she could to be as loud as possible.

“If that is not incentive to do well in at least charms and Transfiguration I do not know what is my little witch!” purred Severus in her ear.

Hermione turned to the dour looking Headmaster. She was about to call him on the 'my' part of his statement but Filch rushed in looking afraid.

“What is it, Filch?”

Alecto rolled her eyes and took smug satisfaction in being able to cast the charm where he could not: “Student Missing. Miss Lovegood!”

Ginny turned to the Ravenclaw table and then at Neville. Oh how could they have been so selfish and stupid? Neville wanted to spend time with a mysterious girlfriend and Ginny wanted to mope about Harry. Why did they not stay with someone who was supposed to be their close friend? Hermione would have their heads and now, seeing her in her Animagus form, the red head was not sure if that would be literal. Over the last term Hermione was especially protective of Luna Lovegood.

“Ugh, Neville – now I am never going to sleep!” Ginny sighed.

“Don't worry, I am sure she is in the Forbidden Forest...”

“I caught her without shoes as far as Hagrid's hut – but not _in_ the Forbidden Forest!”

Hermione had managed to make it to Ginny. Now the Weasley girl was terrified.

“A word, Ginny,” she said coldly.

With that Hermione walked towards her offices next to the Library. A pair of Weasley's Extendable Ears affixed to the wall and her desk. Piles of parchments to sort through for students to order from other wizard schools and institutions, including Malfoy Manor; Châteaux Lestrange, Weeden-Nott Hall and other Pureblood residences. She sat on a comfortable leather swing chair – Ginny was perched on a creaky wooden seat glaring around the office Hermione inhabited between the mystic hours of after Dinner and Curfew.

“What was the DA creed, Ginny?” she asked coldly.

“To not let one another out of your sight.”

“The other...?”

“Constant Vigilance.”

Hermione rubbed her fingertips around her temples: “It is a good thing I cannot communicate to Harry and Ron at the moment. The last letter I got, Ron was somewhat scared for all of us, Harry, however, specifically mentioned you, Luna and I. In that _specific_ order!”

Ginny glanced up and tears threatened to dirty her pale face: “I am sorry I was so depressed over not seeing my brother and Harry. No Quidditch and I was worried about you as you were with...” she clapped a hand over her mouth – she had promised not to tell Hermione she knew what her Christmas and New Years would consist of.

“I was with...” Ginny gulped. Hermione was giving her a cold hard look. The one that had pupils knees knocking in fear. The scowl of Authority.

“Okay, I knew where you were going this Christmas and what you were doing. I wanted to slaughter him in his sleep but...”

“So you tried to steal the sword in the hopes I could?”

“Yeah, seeing as how you are against Divination.”

“You think I would be _that_ stupid to attempt murder on a Dark Lord with all his cronies surrounding me?”

“I just did not want what happened to me to happen to you and neither did Headmaster...”

Hermione's eyes widened at that one: “Since when did you respect Professor Snape so much?”

Ginny fidgeted in her seat: “Since he told me the truth.”

“What is the truth?” Hermione narrowed her eyes. Ginny sighed. “Remember, I have ears on the walls...” she tapped her friends brothers products.

“Fine, he told me that he was asked to kill Dumbledore, that he tried to get out of doing it. He wanted someone to know but Dumbledore thought it was too risky. Snape was meant to become the most Hated Wizard in the world.”

Hermione's eyes narrowed. “Dumbledore. Thought. That. Snape. Should. Be. come. The. Most. Hated. Wizard. In. The. World?” she forced it out, each word tasted like bile in her throat.

“Yes,” Ginny said in a small voice.

“You may leave, 30 points off Gryffindor for dereliction to duty!”

Hermione said it so coldly, Ginny shivered and scurried out of the office a pale mess of palpitations and tears. Hermione was about to grab a headache potion but saw Filch walk in.

“I knows she was a friends of yers,” he sighed. “I ope she's found, she used ter talk ter me like I meant sumfink.”

Slowly, Hermione walked up to the Caretaker and smiled as she reached him she opened her arms. Filch stepped into them and they shared a brief but awkward hug before they separated.

“That is because you are,” she said warmly. “How is Irma?”

“We're waitin' till the war but we wants you to be our bridesmaid!”

Hermione squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek causing the caustic man to blush.

“Congratulations and of course I will be...” she stopped when she saw Amycus Carrow standing there.

“On with your chores _squib_!” he sneered. “Leave proper Witches alone, would you!”

Scowling to herself Hermione remained outwardly stoic. She walked back to her desk and began looking through books that students wished to borrow or bought in for good. Some she was impressed with.

She looked up and Amycus was still there. When she noticed him, he grinned. With ease he swept into the office and clicked the door shut behind him. Silently muttering warding charms so even the Headmaster could not interrupt him.

“Now,” he said – his rich deep voice was scarier than Snapes. Severus held a silken quality to it that leant it a rich coffee texture. This man sounded like he was recovering from a chest infection. “You are a proper Witch now are we not?”

Hermione fumed but refused to show her fear as she signed tickets. Wrote out acquiescence letters, as well as replies to ones that had been accepted but needed the final payment to cover lending fees. Hermione wished his presence could not be felt but the office was like a cupboard. Amycus perched on the edge of her oak desk and began tapping his nails against the wood. He leant down, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Not that I am tempted,” she snapped. “I have work to do, do you also not have lessons to plan?”

Amycus laughed as he pressed his nose to her cheek, he flickered his tongue in and out, tasting her face. She was disgusted but decided to quietly set the secret pairs of ears she had going. Ones that led to the Gryffindor Common Rooms, so that someone could hear and get Severus.

“I am tired and this needs,” she tried to shrug his heavy hand off her shoulder but she did not expect his hold to be that tight – fingers dug in her shoulder – she winced but tried to ignore him.

“I need,” he whispered in her ear. “I need you,” he left a trail of wet kisses down her neck to the clothed juncture of her shoulder. He nipped her to spite the cloth barrier to her flesh. “Need you, Witch,” to emphasise the point he picked up one of her small hands and forced her to stroke his erection. “Reckon you see, good enough for my Lord, you're good enough for the rest of us!”

Suddenly she found herself lifted off her chair in a levitation charm and he controlled the spell on her until she bumped against the wall. He placed a sticking charm so she was hanging like a life-like painting. She was afraid now. Amycus was just waiting for his chance.

“I always had a thing for librarians. Sumfin about their _imperial_ authority does things to me.”

Gulping down her saliva so she could speak she was about to plead for him to let her go but he was already unbuckling his belt. She looked down at his penis and resisted sneering. Severus was a perfect 8 and she almost had that monster inside her. Amycus was a baby compared. However, his would be thrust into a dry hole. That would hurt no matter how small. After he stepped out of his trousers he walked up to her and lifted the skirts of her robes up and tied them at her waist and vanished her underwear.

“This won't be satisfaction, Amycus, just a mere panacea. I won't be giving you anything!”

“I don't mind taking!” he sneered as he saw her slightly covered thatch and began stroking his hands through the pubis. Warm definitely, disappointingly dry, still – he held his hand up, turned it around and spat on the palm drooling over his hand. “See, there are other ways!” he grinned as he painfully pulled her legs apart. Her vagina unfurled before him. He licked his lips as he began to massage her folds in an attempt to coax some lubrication out of her own system. “You will give, Witch!” he growled.

He held her legs on his shoulders as he zoned in and began to lick her – she whimpered – no! Not that! Please, can someone hear her? He looked up at her, dark eyes glinting nastily.

“What are you trying to prove?” she whispered.

“Ah,” he blew against the milk softness of her thighs. The Dark Lord can't have marked her as his then. “You are to be shared amongst us. Did you know that?”

“His Lordship did not say that to me!”

“Why would he seek your permission? You're Death Eater property now. We can do what we want to you. You see how we punish, wish to be on the end of that?”

“No, but...”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. “Hermione, it's Minerva...”

“Tell the cat to leave would ya, wouldn't want to hurt her after all?” sneered Amycus.

She narrowed her eyes. It was then that Flitwick's squeak started shouting off spells on the door. If that was not horrifying enough, Hagrid had joined in the commotion. Amycus snarled – realising this group of interlopers were just too attached to their pet. He unstuck her from the wall but did not stop her from falling painfully on the floor. He hitched his trousers up.

“Your lip won't be appreciated by the Lord, you know!”

“On the contrary, he liked my lips very much!” snapped back Hermione.

Once he was righted he unwarded the door and smirked at the sight of a gob-smacked Minerva, a scowling dwarf, and a flustered Hagrid: “She's ready to receive visitors now!”

Headmaster Snape battled his way through the crowd. There was a maddening way he knew where he and his sister were. Of course, he sneered, his sister was supposed to be seducing Snape so he could have the little Librarian to himself.

“Madam Granger will not require your services,” said Snape. Those that knew him best understood his calm was hiding the inner-turmoil. Minerva rather wished he would unleash the storm on this odious being. “Not this night nor for any nights coming. I am to keep her in my personal chambers by orders of the Dark Lord, and you can tell your shrew of a sister that. I. Am. Not. Inter... Ested,” he leaned down and brought his wand out hissed a little spell at the Carrow's 'bludgers', though if rumour was to be believed they were scant, so much so that to even be called snitches would be an exaggeration. “Now, shoo!”

Amycus took a step when he felt the spell and yelled in agony! The bastard had severed his balls off!

“YOU BASTARD SNAPE! THE DARK LORD WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!”

“Oh shut up! Go to St Mungo's if you are so fond of them but I would not if I were you,” he glanced down where Carrow's sac peeked out from the bottom of his trousers. “They look sufficient at best and flimsy at worst. Now go!”

He swept into the office where Hermione was trying to straighten herself, he shut the door and whispered: “Hermione?” she turned on her heel. Eyes red from crying. Hair a mess from the static of being on the wall. Cheeks red with shame, “Are you all right? He did not hurt...” before he could finish he found himself with an Hermione shaped accoutrement to his buttoned robes – her sobs deep and painful. “Come on, I have decided I am going to look after you. From now on you are no longer a student, you know what that means?”

She looked up, tears still filled her eyes but there was hope shining amongst the pain. Merlin above, she was beautiful: “That we can...”

“Yes, Hermione my love,” he kissed the top of her head. There was no lie – he loved her! “Come to your new quarters and let me show you how much I love you.”

Hermione wanted to question him on his motives for murdering Dumbledore, yet found she did not need to. Whatever the reason was, it would click. She'd talk to her colleague Sinistra about it and they could now begin on working out how to end this war with the powerful and right people still alive.

“You are the best Wizard I have ever known,” she sighed burying herself deeply in his herbal scented robes taking comfort from the warmth and protection they yielded to her. Covering her from prying eyes. “I just want you to know that. I want to show you that too.”

Severus smiled to himself as he hugged her tightly never wanting to let this witch go.

“Come, I need you!”

“I need you, too!” she looked up.

Suddenly his lips crashed on hers about the same time Minerva had walked into the Office: “HEADMASTER SNAPE!”

Severus groaned, he wanted to tell her to hock up a hair ball but that would ruin Hermione's mood: “Yes, Minerva, I am a Headmaster, by definition that means that I am a man. Shockingly true, I know. Yes I _know_ how to kiss a woman. I am _not_ a virgin,” McGonagall began to splutter and fluster, “now whatever it is can surely wait to morning, I have some rather _pressing_ points to make...” with that last dig disguised as innuendo – Severus grabbed Hermione by her waist and pulled her in a TARZAN like move before he spun and apparated …

**In His Rooms**

“Wow!” Hermione exclaimed impressed.

“Be awed later,” he growled. “Time we finished what we started in November!”

With that he whipped out his wand and made sure they were both naked before she had a chance to object. Hermione's gaze fell upon his uncovered form, his erection already half-mast. She gulped a little wondering if she was truly ready.

He saw the doubt in her eyes – she had just been assaulted by Amycus so that was understandable, but he had to show her that not all men were like Carrow and she definitely needed respect shown to her goddess form that 'his' Lord most certainly did not prove to her. He watched a myriad of emotions play across her face as she sucked her lower lip into her teeth. She was clearly still distraught – maybe they should wait?

“Why?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

“Why what?” he was bemused, not sure what she was asking.

“Why do you want to... with me?”

“You have shown extraordinary strength, courage, intelligence, resilience, resourcefulness – in short, Hermione – I desire you as the wonderful young witch you are. You remind me remarkably of someone else I knew. Someone as effervescent as you, who saw beauty in the beast, who...”

He did not finish his statement as Hermione had rushed at him, leapt into his arms and proceeded to fiercely kiss him, eagerly rimming his mouth with the pink tip of her tongue. Once he opened his mouth wide enough for her to seek out his – she effortlessly slipped her warm eager playful tongue to caress his own. It had taken little effort to coax his to come out and play.

Her arms were wrapped loosely around his shoulders and neck, her hands toying in his less greasy than normal hair. Her legs clamped around his waist, he felt her soaking labial mouth rubbing up and down his stomach in an innocently erotic display of affection. Severus was stunned that she desired him beyond reasonable doubt despite the fact that, as far as she was concerned, he had murdered Dumbledore.

“I want you,” she murmured.

She crossed her ankles one over the other behind his back. Gracefully, Severus supported her against his wiry frame by holding her round globes in his confident, steady palms. Kneading the delicious flesh with the heels of his hands making her rise and fall against him. Her breasts rubbing against his throat and pecks. Severus could not believe it – she really was desiring him in a way he had secretly longed after her for over a year. Severus Snape _never_ got what he wanted – until January the 6th 1998 it seemed.

“Take me then,” he said. “I want nothing more than to be your slave.”

Hermione stopped peppering his face with hot dots of pleasurable kisses. She drew back so she could assess his expression: “You already _are_ a slave,” she said seriously. “You were made to kill Dumbledore by the old coot himself and you are forced to work alongside despicable beings like the Carrows.”

“How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“Don't play coy with me, Hermione!” he growled. It sent glorious shivers down her spine. “How did you know I was...”

Hermione smiled shyly as she looked down, her hair covering her face. Oh no you don't, he thought, that's my trick you thief! He brushed long, thick locks aside to find her pleasantly blushing face. She mumbled something.

“What was that?” he asked, she gulped as she heard the smirk in his voice, she dare not look up.

“Arfmncy,” she muffled her voice.

“Did not quite catch that!” he whispered in her ear, as he began leaving hot open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, “I do not believe there is such a thing as Arfmncy on the Hogwarts Curriculum.”

Hermione blushed a delightful shade of tomato: “Last year,” she sighed as she tilted her head up. She jolted as he swiped his broad tongue up the column of her throat to her lobe where he suckled on the soft flesh giving her goose-flesh and wonderful chills. “I wanted to see if I could work something out with Arithmancy,” she refused to stutter as he manoeuvred his head so he could mirror what he did the other side of her throat. “I managed to work out from a months experimentations and calculations that I used based on your date of birth and name – it showed that you were to be forced into doing something horrifying for you. Dumbledore should never have asked that of you.”

She really was clever. He would never take her for granted again. He pulled her up so her breasts were within direct contact with his burning pupils. Slowly, he began walking her to the bed. Gently he lowered her down on the mattress, making sure she was still hung around his body like her skin depended on being within contact of his, their eyes burned into each other souls and hearts. Her lips hung in a sinful pout that held the dew of past kisses on them. His own must have been slack as she managed a slow smile to spread along her lips, keeping them open and inviting.

He descended his mouth on hers, rubbing his lips against hers as if his life depended on it. It seemed this latest tongue-tangler was going to last forever at one point until she pulled back panting, gulping down swallows of oxygen. Her legs had loosened and had dropped below his hips. His hands had reached down to caress and soothe her thighs. She threw her head, arched her back and tilted her hips. Silently begging him to take her, to make her his.

Severus drew back to take her in as she was in her pre-orgasmic state. All anticipation and flesh sparkling with sweat from their kissing. He smiled as her head tilted questioning whether he truly wanted her. What a silly girl, he sighed, did she not feel his want sandwiched between her thighs? Hermione moved her hands from around his neck to leave tingling trails of sweet torture on his cheeks, down his throat, he closed his eyes offering a silent prayer to anyone who would listen that this not be the last time he was able to enjoy her feather light touches.

“Hermione,” he sighed. “Once you are mine, you are literally mine. I see the way you are looked at by the boys in your former year. I have heard all sorts of unsavoury comments about how some of them would like to 'borrow' you.”

Hermione giggled: “I do deal with them accordingly, Severus,” she said.

“Good!” he exclaimed. “Just so we are clear.”

“I hope you realise this means you are mine, too,” she smiled cheekily. “I do not want to see Alecto, or any other, touch you the way I do.”

“I told you earlier, I am happy to be your slave,” he said as he descended on her aching, pebbled nipples. Sucking one then the other alternately relieving their pleasurable pain. “Slave for you, only for you, you my love!”

He trailed his kisses down towards her stomach where he swirled his tongue within her belly button spelling out MINE with the tip of his tongue causing her to writhe beneath him. They had gone beyond banter now. She gasped, panted and rolled her hips in rhythmic sways to the tunes Severus played on the flute of Eros.

Hermione's eyes blew wide open when she felt his tongue lick and suckle her vulva in broad sweeps then digging further, burrowing his way to her little pink pearl of pleasure the way a niffler seeks out gold. Snuffling into her warmth. Her hands grabbed onto his hair and pulled at the strands as her thighs quivered around his face. Her pants coming in short gasps now as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she moaned under the dance of Severus Snape's mouth.

He lifted her legs over his shoulders, he looked up at her then and smiled at how beautiful she was when wild and relaxed. He turned his head and kissed her inner thigh. He then climbed back up her body, keeping her legs in his control by tenderly stroking them up and down, dragging the tips of his fingers leaving fiery trails down to her toes.

The time for worshipping was over, he smirked. Time to bring out the big wands, he knelt on his knees, parting her legs as wide as they would go. Hazily, she viewed how his hands stroked up and down his now weeping member, a white tear peeking out from the eye. Hermione was reminded of probes in sci-fi movies. She could not speak, only think and soon – as he shocked her with a smooth, painless entrance into her secret place – she could not even think.

He allowed a few moments as he gasped over her face the warmth fell like balm on her eyes. She felt him move a little bit. Their eyes once again trained on each other as he began thrusting in earnest. Circling his hips around to find that most sacred of spots within her. He gripped hard onto her buttocks pushing her down on him with such force there would be bruises. Hermione on the other hand enjoyed how he took control of her body. So many times she wished her other lovers did. That was the only thing she liked about the Dark Lord's attentions, she was not in control. Not that she was completely relaxed the way she was with Severus.

“Hermione,” he began to chant. “Hermy-ow-ne!”

She echoed with: “Severus – Sev-er-us – SEV-RUS!”

Their hips clashed against each other as she rose higher in the air, her head seemed to be detached as her body acted as if some force had possessed her into making her do weird gyrations in the air. Severus began to pin her body to the mattress pummelling her for all he was worth, sweat dripping off him onto her. Gods he loved the fact that they were mingling in more ways than one.

Panting, grunting, thrusting, urging, pushing, growling, chanting together the lovers duet until she finally felt something inside her snap and she screamed his name – her coming was as violent and passionate as he hoped it would be. With two more particularly animalistic thrusts he too came and he collapsed on top of her, a boneless heap. She wrapped her legs around his waist once more as he rolled onto his back.

“That was...”

“Amazing!” she gushed.

“It certainly was,” a third voice said from the shadows.

Hermione squeaked as she scurried quickly under the bed covers: “Tut-tut, Miss Granger, there is no need to hide yourself from me.”

Out from the shadows came a wrecked, dishevelled but still threatening Lucius Malfoy.

“Adding voyeurism to your list of crimes now, Lucius?” Severus sneered.

“I had quite the show before me. Who knew you would be _quite_ so possessive,” his eyes roamed over towards Hermione's flushed features. “I can hardly blame you. However, I am here to talk to you, Severus. We need Veritaserum...”

Hermione kept her eyes lowered to the bedsheets she was currently scrunching in her grip. Rolling his eyes, Lucius walked up to her and tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes.

“Do not set any store by anything said by Severus – he is as ruthless in his affections as the rest of us are – do not be charmed by his silver tongue.”

Hermione scowled at him, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead to give her something to think about. He then followed a now dressed and decidedly angry Severus Snape out of the bedroom. All she wanted was Severus to come back into her arms, her heart was thudding as she was coming down from her high.

She did not like the way Lucius had been there all along. She especially did not like what he insinuated. Whatever he believed, she knew differently. Arithmancy was based on past events, on things already known, it was logical and, so far, had never lied to her. She swore to herself that she would get going on another set of equations. Severus had to be good, it was vital that he was.

She also realised something else: He was hers, she was his. She would valiantly assail any of his inner-demons. She would do anything for this brave man she had come to love over the months of being here as an adult rather than a pupil.

When Severus returned she had fallen asleep. Peace reigned supreme in her countenance as if she had drifted off with her mind made up about something. She sighed, shuffled deeper into the sheets and mattress, burying her head within the pillows. Silently, he undressed then quietly he slipped into bed in his black silk pyjamas. As if she felt the dip she moved closer to him and snuggled in his embrace. Her dreams no longer troubled.

**How Love Won**

Hermione was standing outside the ruins of the castle. She had sunk to the dirty rubble strewn path in floods of tears. She had only three months all told with Severus – three months before he had to divide his time between her and his duties to both Order and Voldemort. Three months of absolute loving bliss with three weeks of pain. Now, it was all over. She had calculated time and time again on how to make the outcome positive for her Severus. Yet it all seemed to point to his death, the calculations as bleak as the war itself. One night she threw them in the fire and screamed agonisingly loud. Her appearance for those three weeks were of a frazzled brown-haired mop. It did not help that none of her old friends trusted her enough for her to help them.

Terry Boot, her favourite study buddy, screwed his eyes narrowly at her whenever he saw her approach. Ernie puffed out his chest and told her traitors weren't welcome. Neville tried to reason with them but after seeing so many minors suffering from the Cruciatus curse, Hermione could understand why they would no longer see her as one of them. Still, the knife was wedged the moment Ginny had gone into hiding. Ginny, who was her only staunch defender, the young red head was the conscience of the masses. Without her they began acting like headless sheep.

Her moments of pure joy at seeing Harry and Ron were shattered with dark clouds of grey when the DA closed ranks around Harry – if it was not for Neville's scowl she'd not even be able to hug her friends. Ginny followed soon after with the twins. Bill, Fleur, Molly and the others were arriving soon on Harry's word.

The battle was tough, lasting throughout the night, the deaths were equally as brutal both sides. Turned out one of the Horcruxes were in the school the whole time. The diadem – Hermione failed even in that – concentrating, as it was, on her job. Not having time for personal research, being shunned by all the decent Ravenclaws there were and Luna not being there...

If she was guided by her own thinking she would have asked Filius but Harry did not want the teachers involved because: _one never knew_ , she shuddered out her sobs. Her tears rolling freely down the mud-splattered face. The witch drew herself in for a hug. How could she have been so stupid?

She yelled with triumph when Neville had bested Nagini, the snake who had killed her lover. Had eaten Charity Burbage. Had almost killed Harry and Arthur. Gods knew who else the snake had chomped on. With some careful planning from Luna who was in hiding with Harry and Ron they'd managed to steal Hufflepuffs cup from the Lestrange vault. She was somewhat relieved to see her and Ron holding hands as fast and tight as they were.

Harry had become the Boy Who Lived TWICE. Yet her lover, the man to whom he owed both lives to, had to die. Hermione's sorrow made her want to leap into the Black Lake and allow the Merpeople to take her with them. She wanted to join him in his death. Her parents were no longer her parents but some strangers that lived in Australia. Harry no longer needed her to guide him. She was _absolutely_ certain Ron never needed her to begin with.

With determination she walked further towards the shore of the Black Lake, the gentle caress of cold water on hot tired feet soothing her. Seducing her to enter the watery deep. Coaxing her to swim far out into the lake. Hermione walked, first one step then another until she reached a shelf – the plateau allowed the water to reach just under her arms.

One more step and she'd be under the waters embrace. Her love would meet her, she was certain. She had swung her foot forward. Prepared to die.

But no... she was not allowed to.

She was saved.

Not by Harry. He was busy grieving Fred's and Remus' death. Not Ron or any of the Weasley's. Though they were there when she woke up days later in the infirmary, even George was.

She found she owed her life to none other than Draco Malfoy! Seeing his face amongst the fretful crowd was somewhat of a shock to her but not more so than the features of one other.

“I thought you'd died!” she gasped when she reached up to caress _his_ face ignoring everyone in the room.

“Not thee lass,” he said in a rare display of Northerness she said she had loved once. “What were ye thinkin?”

“I had thought,” she whispered in a small voice. “I had thought no one needed me any more. That Harry had his family, that Ron never need...”

The rest of her speech was stopped by an angrily protesting boy who lived, twice!

“I will always need you, Hermione!” he exclaimed hotly.

“Always?” she asked now reaching out to him.

“Always,” he said softly, clasping her hand in his as tears dropped out of his eyes. “You're my family. My sister.”

“Besides,” Molly said as she glared hatefully at Severus. “Your baby will need its mother!”

“Bay … bee?” she stuttered.

“Did you not know?” Poppy had come through to check her vitals, shoving everybody out of the way. “You're pregnant!”

All eyes turned towards Severus: “We... we're... wow!” he gulped as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her passionately in front of everyone!

“Never gonna get used to that!” Ron muttered under his breath.

“I think they make a nice couple,” Luna said. “Severus is a wondrous human being, so kind and tolerant, he is clever so is she. What is there not to like?”

Ginny just looked up at Harry: “That reminds me,” she grinned a little playfully. “Lets do something fun to honour Fred!”

The Weasley brood plus one Potter and Lovegood left Hermione's bedside. Leaving behind Molly, who plumped up pillows behind her second daughter's head. Tutting about how suicide missions were not conducive to raising a family. Making certain that Severus would make an honest witch of Hermione before she went to make sure her surviving children were not getting into too much trouble. Arthur shook Severus hand and told Hermione he'd be proud to give her away, which he did so, three months later. Draco mumbled a humble thank you to Severus and whispered a farewell to Hermione before he went to find his way back to what was left of his world.

“How... How did you survive?” she asked once they were alone.

“Arfmncy,” was all he replied to a blushing but chuckling Hermione.

They married, had more children and lived _passionately_ ever after.


End file.
